ㅁ America's edge beetles downward, descending continental slopes, surveying seething waters, and removing her clothes, while whales bite her toes; she tumbles and bounds into cold, bold sea. Sea leaps up, seething forth, frothing, angry, grasping at legs, arms, ready to dismember the hopes and dreams of calm trees, which present themselves with aplomb - even a grave, introspective joy. Joy's easy on the jumping ocean: bits of water weave the chill air, the great boat's steel keel grinds, thrusts, climbs green-gray, kelpy hills and beats down the beast, the humped, formless, torturous, wanton foam. Foam wraps 'round, entangles her lissome limbs: she surrenders to the sea's suggestions, embracing the chaotic frozen surges of lost borders. The edge undefines America.
– a nonnets and reverse-nonnets enchained into a longer poem.
